


Madness and Greatness and Care

by Little_Queen_of_Dreams



Category: Doctor Who (2005), She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Bisexual Female Character, Canon Compliant, Catra (She-Ra) Redemption, Catra Needs Therapy (She-Ra), Catra-centric (She-Ra), Codenames, Cybermen - Freeform, Escaping the Horde, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jack Harkness Being Jack Harkness, Kyle-centric (She-Ra), Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), Lesbian Disaster Adora (She-Ra), Life in the Horde (She-Ra), Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Depression, References to Shakespeare, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Six the Musical References, Tiara - Freeform, catradora, horde prison, references to other fandoms - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Queen_of_Dreams/pseuds/Little_Queen_of_Dreams
Summary: "The first time Catra met her, she was seventeen. (Roughly so).Two days before Adora left.Two days before her world was permanently marred.She'd always wondered if there was a connection. "During the course of She-Ra, Catra finds herself colliding with a strange and unusual force in the way of a mysterious figure by the name of Royal. Normally, Catra would ignore her. But, normally, annoyances don't have a complex knowledge of the Horde. Or herself.And is Catra the only thing she's here for?(Alternatively Titled: Catra Gets Therapy and Kyle gets a friend). Centered around mental health and wellbeing with references to mental illness because I can no longer watch shows without psychologically analyzing the characters.Also, if you don't watch Dr. Who, don't worry. Characters and things are mentioned but very briefly (and how could I write a fic in this wonderfully queer universe without Jack Harkness?)
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora & Catra & Kyle & Lonnie & Rogelio (She-Ra), Adora & Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra), Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra (She-Ra) & Original Female Character(s), Kyle (She-Ra) & Original Female Character(s), Kyle/Rogelio (She-Ra)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	1. A Catty Bitch Visits Shadow Weaver (Aragon)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!
> 
> This started out as throwing words onto a page and is now basically a fully fledged story (at least outline wise).
> 
> I don't have a degree in psychology, but I do extensive research on mental health (especially when dealing with my own) and my friend has officially banned me from watching She-Ra with her due to the fact that I'll pause the screen every ten seconds and yell at Catra to get some therapy.
> 
> There are some references to Six The Musical in the way of crowns (because I'm basic) and music (because my playlist was used extensively when writing this). 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

The first time Catra met her, she was seventeen. (Roughly so).

Two days before Adora left. 

Two days before her world was permanently marred. 

She'd always wondered if there was a connection. 

She and Adora had gotten the call to check out a disturbance in one of the storage facilities which, of course, led to their inevitable race that she inevitably won. 

Only to barely stop soon enough to avoid getting shot. 

Skidding to a halt, she stared blankly at the figure crashing around the hangar.

The creature looked humanoid enough, if the idea of humanoid coincided with an entirely metal body and what looked like a handle over its head. The creature lumbered around, scanning various materials before its eyes (or what Catra assumed to be its eyes) landed on her. Arm outstretched, she watched it scan her, mind racing to remember what the heck this thing was and if they were allowed to kill it or not. 

Normally, she would have just killed it, but she'd already gotten in trouble with Shadow Weaver earlier in the day and she wasn't looking forward to another round of unnecessarily painful punishment if this happened to be a new type of recruit. 

“Non-compatible lifeform.” Her train of thought was broken by the robotic tone, the monotonous metal raising its other arm, a small metal cylinder protruding from it, glowing with charge. 

“No!” A pair of voices rang out from opposite sides of the hall, Adora running towards her and-

Another figure, small with blonde hair flailing behind her as she launched herself at the robot’s arm, jilting the shot to bounce off an adjacent wall. It flailed, trying to rid itself, but the angry creature kept a hold. Hooking her legs around its shoulders, she threw it to the floor, narrowly missing another shot as it bounced across the room, taking out a wall panel with it. Adora rushed in to help, only to be swatted away, her teeth gritted. 

“Don't get yourself hurt.”

As Adora made sputtering protests, the pair watched as she ripped a knife from a pocket of her coat, viciously hacking at its neck. Slowly, the light began to faintly dim. She jumped back, dragging the knife along its chest plate and wrenching it open, muttering to herself. 

“Thank Titania it’s not a convert. Battery, where the hell is the damn battery?” Letting off a string of curses, she stabbed frantically until a satisfying crunch caused the eyes to darken completely. 

She sighed, breathing heavy. A small disk was extracted from another coat pocket, clicked on, and placed on the creature’s shell. It beeped for a moment a small countdown appearing in lights, breaking both Catra and Adora out of their trance as Adora vaulted at the device-

And crashed into the ground, the metal man completely disappeared. Rounding on the girl, still heaving, Catra stared, claws at the ready. “What the hell was that?” 

The girl made no motion to respond, curling up into herself even closer back against the wall, hood draped over her face. Adora crouched over to her, eyes tentatively harsh. “We should take her to Shadow Weaver. I've never seen anything like that.”

“Get up.” Claws digging into her shoulder, Catra pulled her up to stand. The girl made no motion, hood barely moving. “Did you hear me? Get up!”

She struggled against the grip, eyes barely visible. “I just have to wait for Jack to pick me up, it'll be any minute now.”

“I don't care.” Jutting her face towards her, Catra glared. “You're in the Horde now and I say you're coming with us. Don't make me get Shadow Weaver to collect you.”

“You've seen what I can do, don't test me.” Rearing her gaze to meet Catra’s, she spit out the words angrily. 

“That's it!” Coming in between the two, Adora hefted the girl over her shoulder, only to be launched backwards as she wrestled out of her grasp and threw her to the ground, practically hissing. 

“I said, don't test me.” She hunched over, arms up and ready to fight. “If you just leave me alone, no one needs to get hurt.”

Adora got up, almost immediately, sharing a tentative look with Catra as she grasped a stun baton from one of the open crates.

_Distract her._

That, coincidentally, meant “be nice to her.”

Great

“We’re not here to hurt you.” Catra raised her hands in surrender, wincing at the display of weakness. “You got rid of,” she trailed off, “whatever that thing was.” 

Neither her expression or position changed, staring at her in stony silence.

“You’re pretty young for a soldier.” _Maybe a new angle?_

She scoffed. “I’m not a soldier, I don’t see much of a point to war.”

“With that training?” 

“I’m proactive.” Her full attention was on her, letting Adora sneak closer. She raised the baton-

Catra smirked. “Not proactive enough.” 

“Wh-” A tremor went through her body, energy crackling around her as she collapsed. Adora winked _(what a dork)_ and went to pick her up again. Still smirking, Catra turned to the doorway only to hear Adora call after her. 

“Catra?”

Rolling her eyes, she turned back on her heels. “What? Can’t carry a kid?”

“It’s not that,” Adora’s face paled, “I mean it kind of is.”

Eyes landing on the fallen body, her eyes widened in understanding. 

The girl was transparent. 

She brushed a hand through the ghostly figure, fingers passing through what should have been solid flesh. The pair shared a horrified look.

“I’m going to get Shadow Weaver.”

~~~

She regained consciousness a little while later, much to Catra’s discomfort. 

It’d taken Shadow Weaver almost all her effort to carry the girl into the main holding cell, slinking off to recharge her abilities before she’d take the girl “into her own care.” 

Neither of them knew exactly what that would entail, but it wouldn't be pretty. 

She’d assigned the pair to guard her, the unnerved feeling behind her words unsaid, but eerily present.

Shadow Weaver was never unnerved. 

It made Catra want to be alone with the thing even less. 

Even with Adora beside her, the figure enclosed in a protective box, she couldn’t help but shudder. 

The kid, whoever, or whatever she was, wasn’t normal. 

(Even for the Horde).

Adora noticed her wake up first, body flickering back to opaque before two eyes gently fluttered open.

Despite the fear, Catra resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She even woke up like a princess. 

Blinking incongruently, the eyes bounced around the interior, her face scrunching when they landed on the lime green barriers surrounding her. A delicate hand brushed her hair out of her face, watching intently as the fingers passed through it for a moment. Her eyes widened, as if bracing for an impact that didn’t appear to come. 

An odd sort of grin spread across her face, a smile of infinite power and control.

One rarely seen by someone in a prison cell.

She noticed them, too, after she’d checked to be sure all of her appendages would remain physical. Eyes regarded them with a curious intensity, giving Catra the unsettling feeling she was somehow scanning her for her innermost emotions. The smile remained as she scooted closer, nose almost pressed against the green. “I’m disappointed in my sloppiness, but I’m rather impressed by the pair of you. You seem so,” her gaze flicked over to Adora, “intune with each other. It’s striking, really.”

“Smile while you can,” Catra felt her nails dig into the palms of her hands, “Shadow Weaver is on her way to relocate you.” She tried to make the final words as sinister as she could. 

The girl only blinked before bursting into laughter. “Shadow Weaver? What sort of stupid name is that?” 

“Mine.” The single word came, barely more than a whisper. Still, Catra couldn't help the rush of fear that came through her, hair standing on end. “I see the prisoner is tangible.”

If she was affected by the women gliding from the back of the hall, she didn’t show it. “I mean, that is the name of a bad supervillain. Possibly the worst name for a supervillain I’ve ever heard and I have a friend who fought a guy named ‘Red Skull.’” She rolled her eyes. “I bet you can’t guess what his main characteristic was.”

“Insolent child!” She was louder now, inches away from the pane, meeting the girl’s eyes with her own expressionless mask.

“I prefer catty bitch, but whatever works best with you, I guess.” 

Catra couldn't stop her own laugh from sputtering out, causing Shadow Weaver to turn to her. “Is there something you find enjoyable?”

“Maybe she’s laughing at the fact you think I’d be scared of someone who looks like the lovechild of Jafar and Ursula. Did you really pick that look?” Squinting, she regarded the rest of the space. “Are you the one who picked out all this burgundy? There are other colors out in the greater world, you know.” 

“Silence!” Shadows exuded from her, pulsing with her fury.

She continued, beginning to pace. “Bad at picking style _and_ bad at picking names. Shadow Weaver? Would your opposite be ‘Light Spinner?’ God,” she rolled her eyes, “have some creativity.” 

There was an almost imperceptible change in Shadow Weaver, shadows flickering for a moment before growing in size. “Choose your next words wisely.”

“I mean, I did you a favor. I got rid of a cyberman. Not only a cyberman but a cyberman looking for a convert? Do you have any idea how dangerous those can be once they get a foothold?” She didn’t wait for a response. “But no, this is _The Horde_ , so you stick me in a box and come at me with your worst dressed antagonist.” Sighing, she turned back to face the wall. “Jack had better get me out of this soon or, I swear to god, I’m going to go Harley Quinn on this joint.” She shuddered. “One color and you pick burgundy?”

“I do not take disrespect lightly.” If Shadow Weaver had been intimidating before, she was downright terrifying now. “You will suffer the consequences for your words-”

“How?” Turning on her heel, she met her with a piercing stare. “I don’t know if your shadow minions can get through the box or not, but I’ll be prepared either way.” Smile simpering, she looked up, meeting the sorcerer’s gaze with her own. “Believe it or not, I can be pretty damn powerful when the need requires.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Catra watched as she flickered in and out of translucency, feet sinking and rising through the floor. “It’s your call though.”

“What sort of princess are you?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop it, all eyes turning to her with varying levels of harshness.

“Darling, there are two princesses in the Horde.” Gaze narrowing on Adora, her expression didn’t waver. “I’m not either of them.”

“I will need to speak to Lord Hordak.” The phrase came out almost stammering. “Catra will watch over the,” she paused, “prisoner.” 

“Why don’t I stay with her?” Dumb Adora, pleading for her. “If either of us miss training, we’ll fall behind.”

“She’s chosen to miss enough, one more day shouldn’t hurt.” Glaring through her mask, she icily made an exit, robes flowing in her wake. Adora followed, mouthing apologies behind her. 

“Sorry about that.” The girl had repositioned herself, sitting cross-legged close to the clear lime walls, playing with the edges of her coat. “It’ll probably be pretty boring watching over me. You can leave if you want! I promise I won’t escape while you’re my guard!” She held up two fingers. “Fae’s honor.”

She glared ruefully. “There’s no point. You’ll be more interesting than lectures on the predictability of princesses.” Her eyes flicked to the hood of her coat, gold filtering through as she rocked back and forth. “Are you sure you’re not a princess?”

“What?” Awkwardly, she pulled her hood down, revealing an intricate golden circlet, inlaid with clear and black gems, slightly raised, supported by gold in a regal fashion.

More queenly than princess.

“If you have a tiara, that makes you a princess, doesn’t it?” 

“Not exactly.” She adjusted it in her reflection. “I happen to have it, and it looks better on me than in some protective case.” 

To anyone that happened to be passing by, she would look like a princess, if an oddly dark one. the bodice of her coat fit itself around her snuggly, blossoming at the arms and waist, falling behind her like a gown, pockets speckling the dark base with offset blacks that didn't seem to match. Boots, black with gold and silver accents dotting its leather hide mirrored her jewelry, heels higher than Catra had seen. Earrings and bracelets fit with her crown, dripping with lavish darkness, all except for a clear pearled strand, coiling around her wrist and disappearing into her sleeve. Her face had a pointed nature, ears sharply and almost awkwardly sticking out of her hair, paired with oddly rounded eyes, filled with curious observation. 

Gone was the terrified creature that had flinched and fought, replaced by an impishly regal figure, lethal even. Lip curling into a half-smile, she leaned over and rested her chin on a fist. “You're wondering why I’m different, aren't you?” Trailing her focus to her nails, her gaze remained both steady and proud. “My answer would be that a person is rather different when she is expecting a panic attack and when she realizes that, for the first time in a long time, she has nothing to fear.”

“You do realize you’re in a Horde prison, right?” Leaning against the edge of the cell wall, she let her head rest against it.

“That’s the funny thing, though.” Her smirk disappeared, replaced with a genuine smile, light appearing behind her expression. “The one place I have no freedom is the place where I feel the freest. I haven’t felt anything this good since Endga-” she stopped, smile disappearing. “It’s not important.”

“Enjoy it while you have it. If Shadow Weaver gets her way--” Her own expression darkened. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

She shrugged. “If my restrictions are gone, they’ll have a tough time torturing me physically. If you need help, you could make me watch the 2020 RNC, or read _A Tale of Two Cities_ , ooh,” she shuddered, “make me listen to the Riverdale version of Heathers. Now that’s hell incarnate.”

“No idea what those are and why would you tell me?” 

“Maybe I want to even the playing field.” Her eyes took on a mischievous glint. “Maybe I want to give you a chance to be good.” Sighing, she lay back, boot resting on a pointed knee as she stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe it's just because I wanted to figure out whether the security cameras over there have microphones.”

Looking over her shoulder, Catra eyed the cameras suspiciously. “How would that prove they didn’t have microphones?”

“Because you just told me.” She winked, cupping a hand around her mouth. “I don’t think you want anyone else to hear what I’m about to say.”

“What could you possibly say-”

“Adora likes you back.”

She tensed, almost immediately freezing up, grip tensing as nails dug into her skin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh come on!” Flailing her hands above her head, she groaned. “She’s twice as obvious as you are. Even if Widow hadn't taught me about the psychology behind it, it'd have been clear.”

“Widow?” 

“Code name.” She pursed her lips, lolling her head to face her. “Everyone’s got one. You didn't honestly think I'd use any real names here.”

Catra squinted. “What about Jack?”

“It's really no big deal.” Turning to her side, she rolled her eyes over-dramatically. “He can't go four seconds without introducing himself. Anyone else that has any brain cells wouldn't dare give their name in most cases.”

“Do you have a codename?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Royal.” She savored the word. “They call me Royal.”

“But you're not a princess?”

“I’m as much of a princess as you’re good at distracting.” Winking, she smirked. “Meaning, not at all. Adora likes you--like ‘likes’ you.”

Her expression soured even further. “I heard you the first time. It doesn’t matter.”

“Please, you’re head over heels.” Royal’s grin only increased as Catra’s claws dug into the side of the ledge, scraping sound following the rough indents. “There’s no use denying it, I already know what’s going to happen.”

“What do you mean you know what’s going to happen?” The only response was an annoyingly serene smile. “What’s going to happen?”

She shrugged. “You’ll see soon enough.” Fiddling with her pearled bracelet, her expression saddened. “And there’s nothing I can really do about it.”

“Okay.” She gestured vaguely. “What’s with the bracelet?” 

“My uncle made it for me.” Some semblance of happiness returned. “Each bead is holy water, a little protection he can give me when he’s not here.”

“Lots of good that did you.”

“You never know.” Veiled mischief flashed across her face. “It could still be useful.”

“In a box?” 

“I’ve got six walls holding me, I only need to go through one.” 

“Six?”

“I’m in a cube, love, do try to keep up.” She inspected her nails. “So, your shifts are normally in 30 minute rounds. We’ve conversed for twelve, which means I’ll have to schedule my escape in the next twenty three-unless Kyle comes after you. I don’t want either of you to be blamed for the chaos that will ensue.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “No one escapes from a Horde prison. Aren’t you also waiting for Jack?”

“Eh.” Checking a screen from inside a jacket pocket, she grimaced. “Jack’s currently struggling to find me and the signal’s really bad in here. Good lord,” Her eyes widened. “He’s lost Phoenix.”

“Another codename?”

“Obviously.” She stashed the screen away. “Apparently, when I said the Fright Zone, he got the coordinates messed around and she’s somewhere in Rebel Territory. I’ve told him he can take his time.”

“You’re getting comfortable? Or do you not remember the threats of torture?” Catra shuddered. “Trust me when I say that when Shadow Weaver’s pissed, she lets you know it.”

“I’m aware and prepared, though, I doubt she'll get to me within the next hour.” A distant crash caused her to tense up before she continued, eyes wary as she sat up with faux nonchalance. “She's too scared to go to Hordak before she's figured out who I am and how I know what I know , and it's not like she's not going to figure it out. However, she doesn't trust herself against me and she can't get any significant back up without Hordak. It's a paradox.”

“And if your paradox doesn't work?” 

She shrugged. “I'll figure it out as I go. It's not like I'll be here for long.”

“You can keep telling yourself that.” Catra shifted away, her back to the pane. “No one escapes the Horde.”

“I guess I'm no one, then.” 

The next fifteen minutes passed in terse conversation. Royal didn't seem too intrigued to tell much about herself and Catra wasn't especially willing to hear the overly personal information she'd somehow acquired. She was almost grateful to see Kyle come down the hallway, cautiously explaining that he was her replacement _(please don’t hurt me)_. Still, as she sauntered through the doors, she couldn't help but look back. 

Royal had already relaxed and begun freely conversing with her guard. Perched at the edge of her cell, her expression softened as she listened to Kyle’s story. From a distance, she looked innocent, a trapped princess stuck and waiting for her rescuer. Catra’s gaze narrowed, noticing the glint in her eyes, the chaos behind her smile. 

Even if that wasn't a princess, she was a threat. 

Catra just didn't know what kind. 

~~~

Kyle wasn't expecting to be assigned to a guard position. 

No one in the Horde exactly trusted him, choosing to give him the less desirable jobs. 

That should have been the first clue to the oddness of the situation. 

For starters, Catra seemed off. Her hands clenched into themselves, tail thrashing violently. She didn't even insult him, or respond to him more than a cursory glare with veiled fear. 

All that was especially puzzling when he approached the prisoner. Looking up from a screen, she smiled. “You're Kyle, right?”

“What?” He looked around. “Are you talking to me?”

“Who else would I be talking to?” 

“It's just.” He paused. “No one talks to me.”

“Why not?” She cocked her head to the side. 

He shrugged. “I don't know, they just don't.”

“That's stupid.” She pulled a knife from the recesses of her coat. “Do you want me to stab them?” His eyes widened in fright, causing her to wince as she returned it. “Or do you want to talk?”

“We’re not supposed to talk to the prisoners.” He shuffled back, tripping slightly. 

“It's probably safest if you talk.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she winked. “It takes a lot of effort to create an illusion that talks. I'm not this annoying naturally, it takes talent and skill.” 

“If you say so.” He slid onto the ledge, noticing the rough edges left there by Catra. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I'm not sure.” She shrugged. “How are you doing?” 

“Really?”

“Really.”

He felt the beginnings of a smile grow. 

~~~

Catra didn’t think of Royal (or whatever the heck she was calling herself) until after seeing Kyle again.

Something was clearly off.

He’d strolled into the barracks, just as her and Adora had finally gotten themselves comfortable enough on their bunk (whether it’d originally been Catra’s or Adora’s neither could remember) to begin to play with a deck of cards Lonnie had stolen from one of the older cadets.

It wasn’t the fact that Kyle was in the barracks that was off, he’d normally hide in his bunk with whatever sketching materials he’d been able to get his hands on.

The odd thing was that Kyle was smiling.

Kyle never looked genuinely happy or confident enough to show an emotion other than fear. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Catra got a sense of satisfaction watching him stiffen at the sound of her voice. 

“I just got off from my shift.” Scared or not, the smile was still there. “Lonnie took over for me.”

“Why would that make you happy?” 

“She was nice. She actually wanted to talk. _To me._ ” He shrugged. “I like her.”

Adora raised her eyebrows. “She’s a prisoner, Kyle.”

“Still, she seemed cool.” He settled into his bunk. 

“Wait,” Catra’s eyes narrowed, “when did Lonnie take over for you?”

“Five minutes ago, I think. Why?”

She grabbed Adora’s hand, yanking her upwards. “We need to go out there.”

“Why?” She winced, head colliding with the upper bunk. “What's so important about that?” 

“She's going to try to escape.” 

“Come on, Catra.” Adora rolled her eyes. “No one’s ever escaped from a Horde prison.”

“Maybe.” She tried to suppress the worry in her voice. “I'm not so sure this time.”

~~~

They skidded to a halt in front of her cell a few minutes later. Lonnie had leaned against the beam, watching Royal from the corner of her eye. Royal had curled up in the corner, sitting against the back wall in unnaturally bored silence. 

“I told you, Catra.” Adora rolled her eyes. “No one escapes.”

“Escape?” Lonnie raised her eyebrows. “How bad of a guard do you think I am?” 

Catra glared. “It's not you, it's just-” Royal’s figure flickered out of the corner of her eye. “What?” She looked again, but nothing had changed, except- “Where's her bracelet?”

“What?” Lonnie gave her a look of disbelief. “What bracelet?”

“On her right wrist. It doesn't fit with the rest of her outfit.” The image flickered again. “What's going on?” 

Royal looked directly at her and snapped her fingers. All throughout the cell, the scene changed. A note had been scrawled in large letters against the back wall, the missing bracelet (much longer than she could have thought) draped across the doorway adjacent to it. The prisoner herself was positioned against the far corner, mere feet from their small group, a brightly colored piece of plastic in her hand. “Get down!” 

Catra and the others blanched at her while Kyle ducked into a little ball. “What?”

She didn't get a chance to respond, instead flicking the item, producing a small flame. Hurling it at the pearled strands, she curled against herself- 

Barely avoiding the explosion it produced, Catra, Lonnie, and Adora all littered with shrapnel as the green barriers collapsed in on themselves, letting the heat and metal attack them at full force. Instead of the usual alarm, a different sort of sound rang through the room, almost melodic in its beat. 

Gasping for breath, Catra looked up to see Royal mutter something into her phone as other soldiers began to surround the space. “Jack, I'm going to have to put you on hold.” The music reverberated through the hall as she grinned, pulling herself into fighting stance. 

_I like_

_Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot_

She vaulted herself at the first two, causing one to go crashing to the ground as she threw them off her shoulder while she kicked in the knees of the other one. 

_I like_

_Drinking hard, maxing Dad’s credit card_

Two shots rang out, causing another two to fall onto each other as she caught the punch of a cadet and twisted his wrist, causing him to yell out in pain while she wrenched his arm out of his socket.

_I like_

_Skipping gym, scaring her screwing him_

Avoiding a stun baton, she dropped to her knees and swiveled her leg around, taking out another pair of legs with it. Using the recently fallen body like a spring board, she kicked upwards, heeled boots colliding with the jaw of a cadet and another pair of shots rang out. 

_I like_

_Killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose_

The trio was beginning to rise, Lonnie being the first to run at her, baton cracking with energy. She dodged, easily sidestepping, only to run into Catra as she rounded on her, claws extended. Barely avoiding her first slash, she pulled onto Catra’s arm, wrapping her legs around her neck to bring the two of them tumbling to the ground. 

_If you lack the balls you can go play dolls_

_Let your mommy fix you a snack_

Crouching low, she shot Lonnie as she came at her again, picking the stun baton from her hands and using it to block Catra, whacking her with it across the stomach. Pulling herself back to standing, Catra noticed the way her hands maneuvered around the buttons as she sidestepped Adora. Too fast for whatever she should have been able to do. 

_Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke_

_In my Porsche with the quarterback._

Fingers quickly found the right buttons, heat and electricity raditiating from the metal tube as she spun it around her, a green wave lashing out at anyone nearby. Adora’s eyes grew wide beside Catra, practically yelling to be heard over the music. “I didn't know they could do that.”

Her eyes narrowed as Royal tore down the hall, a small army in close pursuit. “They can't.”

_Honey what you waiting for? Welcome to my candy store_

_Time for you to prove you're not a loser anymore._

_~~~_

Kyle followed after Royal, dodging the blasts that came from her baton or whatever weapon she'd previously been holding. Swearing to herself, her eyes met his in a passing reflection. 

She winked. 

_And step into my candy store_

Snapping her fingers, he felt the vibrations underfoot as the doors closed behind them. Turning around on her heel, she snapped her fingers again, eyes shutting in focus for a moment to close the door in front. 

_Guys fall_

_At your feet_

_Pay the check_

_Help you cheat_

She met her attackers, the green baton glittering in her belt matched by eight others. Muttering under her breath, she grabbed Kyle’s shoulder. 

“Give me a minute.” 

Left hand swinging up to catch the scaffolding from the ceiling, she hoisted herself up in one fluid motion, narrowly avoiding the combined beam of energy that was trained at her. Clutching the pipes, she swung down, boots once again colliding with the face of a cadet before she fell into the arm of another who collapsed with the weight. 

_All you_

_Have to do_

_Is say goodbye_

_To Shamu_

A flash shot upward, as she stood, bringing the baton around, energy colliding with three others. Crashing down to avoid a stun beam, she met the angry glare of an older cadet with defiance and pushed back on her hands to kick her boot up between his legs. Kicking his face to the side as he bent down in pain, she slid past a dark haired girl, baton colliding with her back. 

_That freak’s_

_Not your friend_

_I can tell_

_In the end_

As if noticing she'd gone after everyone but Kyle, the final cadet ran at him. Training the mouth of the baton to his skull, he glared down at her as she stood, surrounded by a mess of unconscious bodies. 

“An impact this close would kill him. I don't know what you two are playing at, but the Horde doesn't forgive. If he's just another soldier to you, it shouldn't matter.”

All semblance of possible enjoyment had left her stare, eyes angrily harsh. “However, I can. Let him go.” She took a step forward. 

Music reverberated through the hallway. 

_If she_

_Had your shot_

_She would leave you to rot_

He only pressed it closer, finger brushing the trigger. “Rebels aren't reasoned with.” 

“I'm not a rebel.” She kept her gaze trained on him. 

“Anyone who isn't for the Horde is a rebel.” 

“Drop. The. Weapon.”

“Or what?” 

Stamping her foot, Kyle only had a moment to brace himself before he felt the cadet next to him loosen his grip. Eyes opening, he noticed the hall change, almost turning in circles around her. Panels of the floor and wall began flipping over, some showing other rooms in the Horde, some only black and white squares. Spreading her arms, the walls began to pulse in and out with movement, bending like cloth. Beside him, the cadet began to step back, fear flushing through his face. “How are you doing that?” 

_Honey, what you waiting for?_

Ignoring his question, she stepped forward. “I told you I could forgive, not that I would.” 

_Step into my candy store_

Snapping her fingers, the panel beside him opened down, falling directly onto his attacker, Royal rushing towards Kyle as he collapsed. Immediately after, the room reverted to normal. Fear finally showing in her eyes, she let out a shaky breath. “Are you alright?” 

He couldn't look from the space where the cadet had fallen. “What did you do?”

“A little reality, a little illusion.” she smiled, the music quieting down so she could speak. “It's not a big deal. Hopefully he'll get a concussion, but it shouldn't be anything worse than that. Here,” she placed a package in his hand, “I was planning on giving this to Blair, but you seem like you could use some actual drawing pencils and I can make Jack stop on the way home. These too,” she pressed a small sketchbook along with another satchel into his hand, smiling. “If I knew I was coming here, I would have brought more food, but it's the best I can do.”

Gingerly opening the bag revealed small packets of what claimed to be different types of crackers, along with a few different bars. “Why are you giving me this?” 

“Because you're kind and you deserve kindness too.” From the deep recesses of her coat, she handed him a final object, a small metal rectangle. “Use this pager if you need help, or if you just want to talk.” She bit her lip, sadness passing through her expression. “You deserve better than this, but I can't get you out, yet. Hide them in the bag, it won't take too much space.” Grabbing an “L” shaped weapon from her coat, she grimaced. “I'm going to have to shoot you so you won't get in trouble, okay? They're icers--tranquilizers, so it won't leave any lasting effects.”

He nodded, still confused. “Why didn't you let him shoot me? I’m a member of the Horde, I could attack you.” 

“You could,” she shrugged, “I doubt you will. Even if you were my enemy, I wouldn't want you to die. And you're not my enemy,” she squeezed his hand, bag now safely stowed away into the pocket of his pants. “You’re a friend.” 

“Really?” He smiled. 

“Really.”

Then, the world went dark

~~~

Meanwhile, Catra and Adora were still looking for a way in. 

Royal had gone into a narrow hallway with nine other Horde soldiers, somehow shut both doors, and hadn’t come out. 

The chances of survival were low. 

(Which was the reason they were using to destroy a panel in the wall to get to her).

As they stepped through Catra’s cruelly made opening, the first thing they noticed was the pile of bodies.

Littering the ground, Horde uniforms and stun batons fell in every direction, facing every which way, the door at the other end opened. Kyle, oddly enough, could be found as far away from the entry, softly leaning against an older cadet Catra didn’t know the name of. Carefully, they stepped in between the splayed arms and legs to the opening. 

The hallway, it turned out, happened to be an add on, or at least that’s what Catra had assumed. They found a storage unit, high ceilings revealing a halted construction, boxes and crates towering over them in stacks. Precariously perched on one of the stacks was a familiar black and gold clad figure, grinning down at them.

As the final notes of whatever she’d replaced the alarm with began to fade out, Adora approached the makeshift throne. “Surrender to the Horde.”

The intercoms crackled, a new melody filtering through. 

_N-n-n-n-n-n-no way_

_There's no way_

“What she said.” Admiring herself in a small mirror, she adjusted her crown. “You know, she was the previous owner of this.” She winced. “Though, I doubt she attached it with half as many bobby pins as I have. -- Don’t even think about it.” 

Meekly, Adora stepped back from the pile she’d clearly been intending to scale. 

Catra rolled her eyes. “What’s all this about?”

“I told you, didn’t I?” She smirked. “I would give whoever came after you or Kyle five minutes.”

“And then you killed him?”

“I don’t kill.” Glaring, she snapped the compact shut. “Nothing I have is inherently fatal. My gun’s filled with icers, tranquilizers for when I could and when I couldn’t,” she sighed, “it shouldn’t be too bad, a couple weeks of recuperation at the most.”

“Why haven’t you _iced_ us yet?” Catra whacked Adora in the side giving her a look. 

_Don’t give her any ideas._

“I don’t want to,” she held her weapon (gun?) delicately, “I probably will eventually so you don’t get in trouble, but until then I don’t see much of a point.”

“And what if we attack you? You’re balancing pretty well up there, but it’s still balancing.” Adora raised her eyebrows in a cute attempt to be intimidating.

_Never mind, not cute, stupid._

_Stupid is a safer word than cute._

Her smile only grew as they watched the stack flicker in and out, stone and boxes. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

“Is that how you took them down?” She gestured to the hallway.

“Kinda,” Bringing her leg on top of the other, her nose crinkled with ridiculous glee. “I threw them off their rhythm.” When she didn’t get any response from Catra or Adora, she sighed. “No Doctor Who, no John Mulaney. Do you people have anything here besides a totalitarian regime with bad style choices?”

Adora shook her head. “The Horde isn’t any type of totalitarian regime, we bring order to Etheria.”

“Is that what they’re telling you?” She barked out a laugh, almost losing her balance as she leaned backwards. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never heard anyone say something so completely ridiculous with such a straight face. Though,” her eyes flitted to Catra, “I’d say that’s the only straight thing about you.”

She ignored the color that was seeping up her cheeks. “Whatever, rebels' opinions don’t matter.”

“For the love of Titania, I’m not a rebel.” Brow creasing in annoyance, she fixed the two with a pointed stare. “I think they’d have some good points if you’d only listen to them.” Regarding Adora with an observational glance, she softened. “And that’s when everything changes.”

“What?” Adora looked between her and Catra fearfully.

“There's-” she paused, letting out a shaky breath, “There’s a choice you are going to face and,” Her eyes landed on Catra, softening with pity, “one of you is going to be wrong.”

From the insides of her coat came a striking noise, clashing with the music that had replaced the alarm. Catra couldn’t tell what it was, just that it repeated the word “womanizer” (or was it “woman icer?”)

“He’s here,” She forced herself to smile. “I’ve got to go.” Pointing her pistol at the pair of them, she sighed. “I really am sorry, you know.”

The shots fired faster than they could move, Royal’s clear, green eyes leaning over her as she went unconscious. “I’m so, so sorry.”

~~~

Glaring up at the recently demolished cell, Shadow Weaver felt her fury pulse. 

Whoever the prisoner was, she’d left. 

Left with more information than Shadow Weaver could have thought one blonde, insolent, mind could hold. 

She felt her jeering expression as she regarded the message drawn on the wall, almost looking like it had been painted with gold ink. 

She knew her name.

She knew her past.

And, as she turned away to skulk back to the Black Garnet Chamber, she would find who she was.

Behind her, the words mocked her, brightly contrasting the dank walls of the Fright Zone. 

A rose among the thorns. 

Tauntingly.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_I regard you and your badly dressed cult with both judgement and annoyance. (Though, I’ll be fair, Hordak, the cult you originated from was even worse). For the record, this is not the fault of any of the cadets who were charged with my care, they never stood a chance. :) So, LEAVE KYLE AND CATRA THE HELL ALONE!_

_I hope you like the playlist, it’s 11 hours and 36 minutes._

_Don’t worry, though, I’m sure you’ll have it fixed by Princess Prom (or as soon as you get someone with actual cognitive faculties to help)._

_To all the cadets: THIS IS A TOXIC ENVIRONMENT -- GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE WHILE YOU CAN (your mental health will thank me)._

_ALSO, STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM PORTALS -- NONE OF YOUR LABS HAVE THE PROPER SAFETY FEATURES_

_Overall, 1 out of 5 stars, would not recommend_

_See you later, Spinny!_

_\- Royal <3 _


	2. Don't lose Ur Head (Especially at Prom)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party don't start until someone psychologically dissects you and Kyle has a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, Royal is wearing an altered version of the Anne Boleyn costume from Six, I just can't describe clothes particularly well. 
> 
> This is set during Princess Prom (because of course it is) and does feature a cameo from Jack ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The second time Catra met her, she was sure it was a mistake.

Truthfully, she was the happiest she’d been since Adora had left. If she couldn't be her friend, she was content with annoying the ever loving hell out of her. 

Unfortunately, Sparkles was upset by something or other and she had yet to follow her to her current location which, while providing her with a clear vantage point to the rest of the ball, was annoyingly snackless.

And, when you’re not eating or stewing in the fact that your best friend  and possibly something more has left you for someone dumb enough to wear a crop top in an ice palace or etching figures into railing with claws only to realize that you’ve just been sketching Adora-

You get bored. 

Catra doesn’t like getting bored. Getting bored only means being alone with your thoughts and spiraling off when you realize that you’re worthless and no one has ever loved you and-

(You get the picture).

So, there she was. Gripping the railings tighter as Adora placed a hand over Glitter’s, giving her that reassuring smile that she only used to give her.

She didn’t think it could get any worse. 

“Nice suit, though, are you sure about the burgundy?”

The voice trilled from the corner, dripping with mischievous glee. Letting out a low breath, she turned, trying to keep up the facade of nonchalance. 

She knew that voice.

In all of her miniature glory (annoyingly, matching Catra’s height in her heeled boots)  _ she _ was there. 

Eyebrows raised and dark red lips curled into a pleased smirk, she leaned against an icy support beam. 

If she’d looked like a princess the first time Catra had seen her, she was definitely one now. Another tiara, a myriad of green stones entwined with strands of silver and gold rested gently upon her blonde locks, floating around her either through static electricity or a complete ignorance of gravity. Green metallic squares embedded into heavy black fabric came up to her neck, petal-like sleeves protruding outwards, cut off only by the cropped style, the forest of colors flowering around her in a skirt, the front raised midway above her knees while the back fell to the tips of her heels. 

Catra glowered. “You’re here.”

“What was I meant to do?” She winked, sauntering over to lean against the railing. “Jack heard the words ‘princess’ and ‘prom’ together and decided we had to go.”

“Without an invite?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or are you a princess after all?”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m in relation to a rather powerful queen and Jack’s always getting called a queen.”

“I’m not sure that’s the same thing.”

“And Phoenix is my plus one.” She traced patterns in the railing. “It would have been Gwen, but she’s got rehearsal.” 

Catra raised an eyebrow. “No codename?”

“You’ll never get close enough for it to matter, so no.” Her fingers continued their trail. 

“If I did?”

“I’d end you,” she smiled sweetly, “though, she could handle you on her own, I’m sure.”

“Careful.” Catra unsheathed her claws. “That could sound like a threat.”

“It was--stop.” She held up a hand. “You don’t want to attack me.”

She let her own hang in the air, cocking her head slightly. “Why’s that?”

“Violence isn’t allowed in the ball.”

“Neither are crashers.”

“You could turn me in, of course,” she inspected her own nails, also annoyingly metallic green, “but that would bring guards to you, and I’m pretty sure Adora would notice. Do you want me to tell her your plan?”

She glared out at the party. “What’s there to tell? She’s the one who left me and made the wrong choice.” Raising an eyebrow at her, she continued. “That’s what you told us last time, didn't you.”

“Adora didn’t leave you.” She raised her hands in surrender at Catra’s scowl. “In her mind, that is. You need to understand that you're two different people with two different types of conditioning.”

“No kidding.” She looked out again.

“What I mean is that Shadow Weaver’s manipulation was different for the two of you in its intent.” Gesturing to Adora, she continued. “Shadow Weaver saw her as the easiest way to get control for the Horde. To get that degree of commitment, you can try it one of three ways. A lust for power wouldn’t be safe, seeing as that could lead her to be successful, but could also lead to her turning on her, and the last thing she wants is a lack of control. Love for a person or group wouldn’t work, seeing as you’re basically the only thing she loves and Shadow Weaver hates you.”

Catra ignored the blush seeping up her cheeks as she continued.

“So, the best way would be to make it about ethics. If Adora thought that the Horde was the only thing stopping Etheria from utter collapse, along with a healthy dose of savior and martyr complexes, you get someone who is suicidally dedicated to the cause and forced to be perfect. She prioritizes moral obligations. Meanwhile,” she gestured to Catra, “she had no such aspirations for you, instead using you as an unhealthy outlet to project all her feelings of self-loathing onto. Thus, you grew up with a low sense of self esteem and weak idea of self that hinged on Adora’s appreciation of you. You prioritize personal relationships over moral obligations.” Her smile was annoyingly passive. “When she left, you focused on her leaving you rather than her leaving the evils of the Horde.”

“Are you some sort of psychotherapist?”

“Nope,” she shrugged, that stupid smile remaining plastered on her face, “but it turns out that when you have the mental stability of a vase held together by duck tape fixed by  _ literal _ kindergarteners, you go to a lot of therapy and you pick up on a lot of things.”

Catra sighed. “Who’d have thought?”

“Highness!” A voice came from behind, startling the pair. “I was wondering where I’d find you!” 

Royal’s face contorted between a mixture of a grin and a grimace. “Hiya, Harkness.”

Turning on her heels, Catra found herself face to face with “Jack.” He was tall, tall enough to tower over her in an uncomfortably warm manner, dark hair messily brushed to the side, tie tossed around his jacket, lazily attractive. Bright blue eyes smiled down at her, unnecessarily close to Adora’s shade. “And you are-”

“Lesbian, Jack.” Royal rolled her eyes. 

He backed away almost immediately, bowing slightly. “My apologies.” 

She grunted. 

Turning to Royal, he continued. “There’s some woman with purple hair who stole my food and then went on an excited rant about technology. Are you sure she’s not the Doctor?”

“That’s just Entrapta.” She shook her head. “Though, I was hoping to have a conversation with her about her work integrating First Ones tech with modern tech, it seems to parallel what we’ve been working on at home incorporating magic and tech-”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes, “what else was I expecting when I brought the nerd?”

“Shove off.” She smiled despite herself, as she took his arm. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

It took a moment before she realized she’d been talking to her. Fixing her expression into an acceptable glower, she nodded slightly. The two walked away deep in conversation, Jack sparing her furtive glances before Royal whacked him upside the head. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to where Adora and Twinkle had been, now noticeably lacking in princesses.

Claws angrily dug into the railing, shards of ice falling onto partygoers below. By the time they’d looked up to see what had happened, she was gone.

~~~

Kyle hadn't known what to expect by coming to Princess Prom. Catra had all but thrown the extra uniform at him and told him to follow Lonnie’s orders. 

For someone who was barely older than him, she certainly acted older.

They’d been stationed outside of a large pair of doors for the better part of two hours. Their cover made it essential to not talk, just to stare out to the other guests. Lonnie hadn’t said much in the way of what they exactly were supposed to do, leaving him to stew in confusion as his mind concocted the different horrible scenarios they’d be forced to play out.

He’d be forced to, Lonnie didn’t seem to mind.

She’d been quieter, angrier since Adora had left. Though, in all certainty, he wasn’t sure if that’d just been because of Catra’s promotion. It wasn’t as if they’d been particularly close, Adora was more of the buffer to stop them from going for each other's throats. 

And that had disappeared.

Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, her expression didn't provide much help. Cold, emotionless eyes shone from behind her visor, lips stuck in a tight line. He couldn’t imagine she’d object to much.

The thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

“Are you okay?” The question came harshly, annoyed.

He hadn’t even realized he was shaking. The thick uniform felt suffocating, his breathing becoming short, each breath a fight for air. He was almost sure she could hear his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Fine.” The word came out stuttering, shakier than he’d hoped.

“Just,” she grumbled, “cut it out.”

His heart seemed like it was going to crash out of his chest. 

“Excuse me?” He heard Lonnie swear under her breath as a green-gilded young woman rushed forward, face contorted into the perfect princess expression of terror, her voice warbling in fear. 

_ An oddly familiar voice. _

“There’s this tiny horrible creature in the women’s bathroom. I’m not so sure what it is, but it’s got lots of hair and lots of teeth.” Her voice hushed into a scared whisper. “I think I saw it attack something.”

“Uhh,” Lonnie actually looked confused. When the woman noticed her hesitation, Kyle felt a trembling hand latch onto his arm, feeling more delicate than it looked. 

“Do you think you could help?” Kaleidoscope eyes peered into his, fear cracking away for a moment when he saw it wink before he was jerked away. “I’ll return him in a moment.”

He gave Lonnie one last pleading look before he was yanked around the corner. She let go of his hand the moment they were out of earshot. “Hey, breathe with me, okay?” 

Hidden out of sight behind the corner, he felt himself lowered onto a ledge jutting out of the wall, his hood gently lifted from his forehead, a glass of water pressed into his hands. “Slow breaths, close your eyes, focus on your surroundings.”

Eyelids fluttering shut, he followed her instructions, feeling the rest of the noise and anxiety dissipate with each labored breath. When he finally opened them, he found himself face to face with a familiar sight.

“Royal?”

“Hi.” Red lips pursed into a tight smile. “Sorry for taking you away and all, it just looked like you were close to a panic attack.”

“A panic attack?” He took a sip of water, letting its cool wash over him.

“You know,” she searched for the words, “they normally come from anxiety where fear washes over you and your mind and body get too pent up to let it out smoothly, so it all kinda comes crashing down?” Awkwardly brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she blushed. “Blair gets them more than I do, I’m not totally sure how to describe it.”

He nodded, his own awkward smile growing. “I get it, I just didn’t know there was a word for it. They don’t really talk about that stuff in the Horde.”

“Of course they don’t.” She sighed. “They do understand that mental health is actually a thing, right?”

“You know, I don’t think they do.” He rolled his eyes. “That would involve admitting we’re human, and cat, and lizard, and,” he paused, “whatever Octavia is.”

She smiled, mask genuinely breaking with joy. “It’s the ridiculous limitations that get me.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I mean, what sounds good about the ‘Horde?’”

Her laughter subsided. “I wish there was a way to get you out of there, all of you.”

“It’s fine,” shrugging, he took another sip of water, “there’s always limitations. No one can do everything.”

“But I want to.” She muttered the phrase under her breath, blush creeping up her cheeks when she realized she’d said it out loud. “Sorry, Dr. Bright says I’ve got a bit of a savior complex.”

“You sound like Adora.”

“She’s got something like that too.” Dropping down to sit next to him on the ledge, her eyes widened imploringly, giving her the look of a well dressed baby dear. “Look, I’m really sorry about icing you, if I could’ve done anything else I would’ve.”

“It’s alright,” he went to put a hand on her shoulder before he noticed her flinch, choosing instead to stick it back in one of the expansive pockets of the winter coat, “Shadow Weaver didn’t notice and no one’s really been on me more than usual,” he paused, “almost no one.”

“What?” The baby deer turned back to him again. “Has someone been picking on you?”

“It’s the Horde.” He rolled his eyes. “Someone’s always picking on me.” 

“But it has increased?” Her eyes narrowed, altering the image of the baby deer into something much more likely to eat the baby deer.

“It’s just Bryce, the cadet that, you know,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “threatened to kill me.”

“Why are the jerks always named Bryce?” Her eyes narrowed even more. “What’s he done?”

“Normal stuff, I guess. No one really has any idea about what you are and he may have said he thought I’d be,” pausing awkwardly, his eyes fell to the floor, “sleeping with the enemy.”

“That’s it.” He blinked, registering the knife that had all but appeared in her hand. “He’s going to pay.”

Kyle couldn’t quite contain his shock. “How do you keep getting so many knives?”

“Pockets?”

“Really,” his hand delved back into his own pocket, “it’s not like he’s the one sending me on random missions and not telling me anything.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Catra didn’t tell you what you’re doing here?”

He shook his head. “No one will tell me anything, so I've been spiraling. That’s,” his gaze fell to the floor again, hand tightly gripping the cup of water, “that’s why I was acting like that.”

“Do you want me to tell you?” 

“You know?”

“Of course I know.” She rolled her eyes. “We’re kinda here to make sure you all don’t get yourselves or others hurt too badly.”

“Isn’t that the point of the mission?”

“Do you want to know or not?”

He nodded silently.

“Good,” taking a sip from her own cup she’d placed to the side, she continued, “You’re all going to put heat bombs, or whatever they’re called, to various parts of the ice palace. Scorpia’s going to steal She-Ra’s sword, and you and Lonnie are going to kidnap Bow and Glimmer.” She held a hand out, noticing his breathing quicken. “Adora’s going to get everyone back really soon and Weaver’s going to take a major loss.”

“Isn’t this Catra’s mission?”

“And Weaver’s going to take the credit. All in all, you should be fine.” 

“I wish we didn’t have to do all this.” His expression drooped, ignoring the tears that were beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. 

“I know,” she sighed heavily, taking another sip from her drink, “I can probably get you out eventually, but it'll take some time.” Face brightening, she set it down. “I can’t believe I almost forgot! Jack and I will be able to drop some food and stuff off, if you want it.”

“I’d love that.” He nodded enthusiastically, meeting her gaze, before awkwardly dropping it back down. “Sorry, I’ve just never had a friend before. I don’t want to take stuff from you.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s no trouble. I can probably get him to drop stuff off every once in a while if you’d want.”

“Really?”

“I’ll visit too,” she blushed, despite the cold, “if you’d like that?”

“Yeah.” He felt himself smile. “I’d love that.”

“Alright, then,” Brushing her skirt to stand, she readjusted her tiara, giving herself a once over in the icy reflection. “Until next time, love.”

“Until next time.”

~~~

Catra didn’t see Royal again for sometime until she spotted her with Harkness in the corner. Leaning against a nearby pillar, she found herself listening into their conversations.

“All I’m saying is that they were incredibly attractive.”

Royal gave a sigh worthy of the princess of Salineas. “You’re not flirting with a shapeshifter that has no moral compass, okay? I’m going to have to deal with them later and I’d really not like it to be awkward.”

“You do know I’m over sixteen hundred years older than you. I can make my own decisions.”

“Fine.” She huffed, making Catra roll her eyes.  _ Stupidly Princessy _ . “Then I’ll make my own decision to give Barnes your contact info. I’m sure he’s very pleased after you flirted with his husband.”

He gasped. “For the last time, how was I supposed to know he was married?”

“They both wear wedding rings.”

“I’m sorry, the man was shirtless. I wasn’t exactly looking at his hands.”

She groaned. “Or, better yet, I’ll tell Nat you got me stabbed-”

“-that wasn’t the first time you’ve been stabbed.”

“Or almost burnt at the stake for witchcraft.”

Catra resisted the urge to look around at them. They had to be lying, right?

“You probably shouldn’t have worn a crop top that said ‘smash the patriarchy,’” he paused, “or worn a crop top at all.”

“You were wearing one too, you know.”

“But we both know that I’m an incredibly attractive-” she groaned in annoyance, “white male. We can kinda do whatever we want in history.”

“All of history, it seems.”

“What?” The teasing in his voice halted, giving way to something much softer. “Did you get catcalled again? I know River’s been rearing for a fight.”

“It’s not that,” she grimaced, “well, yeah. Sometimes I just want to watch the world burn.”

“That’s more Regina George than Anne Boleyn.” The levity returned.

“Sorry not sorry.” She laughed. “What time is it?” 

“It’s-wow.” Catra could hear the grimace. “They’ll be setting them up soon. Do you want to grab Phoenix?”

“Now we’re using codenames?”

“Whatever it takes to please you, highness.”

“In that case-”

He sighed. “I’m still not getting you a guillotine.”

“Traitor to the crown.” She snarled at him lightheartedly.

“What are you going to do, behead me?” She winced at the playful cadence. How could the man be this happy?

“I'll decide your due punishment later. Now we're got a job.”

“See you on the other side, highness.”

“Not if I see you first, Harkness.”

“Not with your eyesight, you won’t.”

She laughed. “Whatever, just make sure this place doesn’t collapse.” 

“As you wish, milady.”

“Jack-”

“I’m leaving.” Stepping past Catra’s beam with a smirk, he nodded to her. “Lesbian.”

She scowled. “Freak.”

“The first dance will be starting soon,” his smirk remained annoyingly present as he turned away, “are you going to find that blondie of your’s?”

She would have clawed him had it not been for the distance. From the other side of the pillar, Royal’s heeled boots clicked against the icy floor. “Remember, love, vengeance rarely brings the catharsis you want it to.”

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes. “Which one of your therapists told you that, pipsqueak?”

The attempted insult rolled right off her as she walked past, disappearing into the crowd. “Harley Quinn. Don't lose your head.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack Sees DT:
> 
> Jack: hellooo
> 
> Royal: *dragging him away* Gooood bye
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos ;) I'm open to suggestions and I'd love to hear your feedback!
> 
> On that note, would any of you like mini Royal and Kyle friendship scenes? I've got some I've written, but aren't going to fit into the main story.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments and kudos ;)
> 
> And have a great rest of your day!


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